


The Trouble With Mistletoe

by Neyiea



Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8941429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: This Christmas season is going to be different from all others, and not only because Robbie almost eats a toxic plant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are such good Sportarobbie Christmas fics being written, I wanted to join in on the fun.   
> I think this'll end up with four chapters, but we'll see if I need to add some more to get all the stuff I want written done.

As soon as December 20th had hit Lazy Town had been in full Christmas-preparation mode; hanging lights in the town square, decorating the multiple trees that lined the sports field, and making a variety of snow men which now stood beside the steps of Town Hall, like some sort of icy welcoming committee, for the party taking place on Christmas Eve.

Robbie wishes he could say that he was indifferent to the entire business, but that wouldn’t be entirely true.

This will be Sportacus’s third Christmas in Lazy Town, and despite the ups and downs of the previous holidays Robbie finds himself actually, sort of, looking forward to the date this year. 

He admits, very quietly to himself when he is absolutely certain that he is alone, that maybe the damned sports elf and those brats have somehow endeared themselves to him. Just a little.

Which is why when a paper airplane slides gracefully onto his area rug on December 22nd he doesn’t tear it to pieces without looking at it. Instead he carefully unfolds the paper, glancing at the direction from whence it came and wondering how Sportacus had even managed to get it down here, before settling down to read it.

_Robbie,_

_I was wondering if you would like to help me with some decorations in the Town Hall this evening. The children have already done so much to help prepare for Christmas and I want to make sure they aren’t putting too much on their plate and consequently not spending time with their families._

_I hope to see you, perhaps around six?_

_Yours,_

_Sportacus_

Robbie folds the letter back up, deliberating. On one hand, decorating sounded like it could be a lot of work and he wasn’t entirely sure if he felt up to it. On the other hand, the idea of spending time with Sportacus, just the two of them, was strangely pleasant. 

He doesn’t have to help a whole lot, he tells himself. He could take his time stringing lights up along the ceiling, or whatever it is that Sportacus wants to get done so that the children have a smaller job to focus on. Surely Sportacus didn’t expect a whole lot of help from Robbie anyways, not when they’ve known each other for years. Maybe he was only asking so that he could have some adult company while he did the majority of the work.

Something warm spreads through his chest at the thought that Sportacus might use excuses just to spend time with him. He resolutely ignores it and glances to his alarm clock.

He still has a couple of hours until the allotted time, so he sinks back into his chair and closes his eyes to take a nap despite not being tired.

That, as it turns out, was a huge mistake, because when he drags himself out of his lair hours later he feels like collapsing into a pile of snow and hibernating there until winter is over.

He stumbles into Town Hall, squinting his eyes against the artificial lights, and Sportacus turns to look at him, smile dimming somewhat as his eyes trace over Robbie’s slumped posture. 

“Robbie, are you alright?”

“Am I ever alright?” He stretches his arms above his head, a series of pops and cracks sounding off along his spine, and Sportacus’s face turns into a mask of horror at the noise. “I had a nap when I shouldn’t have. Just give me a few more minutes to wake up and I’ll be fine.” He unwinds the scarf from around his neck and kicks the toes of his boots against the mat at the entryway before stepping to the side to take his winter gear off.

“I made some hot cocoa for you, maybe that will help put a spring in your step.” Sportacus pats a hand against his shoulder before gesturing over to a table where a myriad of decorations and a blue thermos are laid out. 

“Were you so sure that I’d come?” He asks as he drifts over to the table.

“I’d hoped that you would. I’m going to start organizing some of the other decorations while you warm up.”

Robbie hums under his breath and unscrews the cap of the thermos, bringing it to his nose to smell it and make sure it is actually chocolate, and not something as vile as black coffee. It does smell a great deal like hot chocolate, though that hardly proves anything. For all he knows it could be made with cocoa powder and unsweetened soymilk, no added sugar at all, something that would taste bitter and healthy. But when he carefully takes a sip he’s pleasantly surprised to note that it’s just as sweet as he would make it himself. 

He’d gone out of his way to make hot chocolate just the way Robbie likes it, and, knowing Sportacus, this probably wasn’t the only thing he was planning on giving to Robbie this Christmas season. 

That warm feeling comes back, and this time Robbie blames it on the hot beverage that he’s gulping down like his life depends on it. The unexpected gesture, no matter how small, makes him feel like maybe he should try doing something nice for Sportacus this year.

It only seems right to. If he doesn’t do anything then he’ll likely feel like he’s in Sportacus’s debt and that’s sure to bother him for ages, so he may as well get it over with so he can even the playing field beneath them as soon as possible.

But what to do? Decorating couldn’t count, he’d already agreed to it by coming here in the first place, and he already wasn’t planning on participating in it too much. He hadn’t exactly planned to give gifts this year, so used to not taking part in that type of exchange. The shopping channel was going to be backed up with Christmas orders by now, and anything that he might have on hand in the lair was bound to be something that Sportacus would only pretend to like out of the kindness of his heart. That leaves him with only a few options that Sportacus is sure to like, neither of which Robbie cares much for.

Before the end of the night he either has to 1) exercise, or 2) eat sports-candy.

His entire body aches from slipping on a patch of ice earlier in the day, so it looks like it’ll have to be the second option.

He downs the last of the hot chocolate and casts a glance around the room for any fruit that might be innocently lying around. 

There’s nothing but a decorative bowl filled with foliage and Robbie recognizes the plant, or at least the white berries of the plant, as being mistletoe. He casts a glance around the room to see that none has been hung yet, leaving everyone safe from enforced kissing, for now at least. He puts his hand into the bowl and pulls out a bundle of it, looking it over sceptically. The berries are small, at least, and he supposes there’s something nice about how white they are, the lack of colour. Maybe they won’t taste of anything at all.

He glances over to where Sportacus is unboxing packs of ornaments for the tree before turning his attention back to the plant.

He slowly takes one white berry between his fingers and plucks it off the stem, studying it closely before holding it to his lips, taking a few moments to gather his willpower before opening his mouth and slipping it inside.

In a flash of movement Sportacus is there in front of him, hastily slapping the mistletoe out of his hand and gripping hard onto Robbie’s shoulders.

“Robbie, spit that out,” he demands, voice tight with panic, “spit that out right now.”

Robbie obeys, holding out a hand and letting the berry fall from his mouth and into his palm.

“Was that all? Did you eat any more?” Sportacus’s hands tighten minutely as he stares Robbie straight in the eye.

“That was the only one,” Robbie offers weakly, unsure about what he’d done wrong. Sportacus sighs, the tense lines of his body relaxing, and he briefly leans forward, his forehead almost brushing against Robbie’s chin before he rocks back on his heels and lets his hands drop back down to his sides.

“Mistletoe is toxic Robbie. It is in no way, shape, or form good for you to ingest. Please don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Oh. Okay.” He stares at the bowl of mistletoe on the table. “If it’s toxic why do people use it as a decoration?”

“Most people know not to eat it. Or it’s at least high enough from the ground that they can’t try.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” Robbie huffs and crosses his arms, trying to fight off the waves of embarrassment that have decided to assault him. “Do I look like the sort of person who knows stuff about plants?”

Sportacus purses his lips, as if he’s trying to fight back a smile, but the mirth in his eyes is entirely too evident.

“What are you so happy about? I apparently could have died!”

“I wouldn’t have let any harm come to you Robbie. You know that, right?”

Robbie huffs again and doesn’t answer the question. “In any case I certainly feel awake now. Let’s get to work before I decide it’s infinitely safer for me to stay in my lair.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your lovely comments! They give me life and I love hearing what you think. :)

The night progress as Robbie knew it would, with Sportacus doing the brunt of the work. He excitedly climbs the ladder to pin strands of greenery against the top of the walls while Robbie stands in place and tells him whether or not it looks alright. Then he adds the decorations to the uppermost part of the tree, Robbie handing him the unboxed ornaments one by one, so that the kids won’t have to climb anything taller than a stepping-stool to decorate the rest of it. The only thing he refuses to put up is the star for the top of the tree, which he insists needs to be the last thing done tomorrow, with everyone here to see it.

With that finished he begins to tape arcs of tinsel across the ceiling, and Robbie hands him strand after strand, their fingers brushing every time Sportacus needs more. Robbie tries not to think about the brief contact or the puzzling, fluttery way it makes him feel, and instead focuses his attention on how everything Sportacus has done to decorate so far has involved him standing on the highest step of the ladder.

“I feel as though, considering how my height could be an advantage in this situation, you aren’t utilizing me appropriately. You’re too high up on this thing. What if you fall?” 

Sportacus pauses in the act of taping tinsel and glances down at Robbie, beaming. “That’s very thoughtful of you! But do not worry, I’m not going to fall. I have climbed much higher ladders than this before and I’ve never had a problem.”

That doesn’t exactly make Robbie feel any better. 

“If you fall on top of me I am leaving and not coming out of my lair until Boxing Day.”

If anything Sportacus’s smile only widens. “I’ll be sure to fall away from you, then.”

Robbie lets out an explosive sigh and shoves fistfuls of tinsel above his head. Sportacus laughs and takes them from him, one by one, until they need to move the ladder closer to the center of the room to spread the shimmering decoration equally across the ceiling.

It’s a slow job, but Sportacus cheerily keeps at it until the entire ceiling is awash with strands of tinsel, gleaming under the artificial lights. Right now it looks rather gaudy, but Robbie imagines that in lower light, maybe with only the fireplace and the lights on the tree lit, it would be quite lovely to look at.

“Now I have a special job for you, Robbie, and you won’t even need a ladder!” Sportacus hefts up the bowl of mistletoe and hands it over to Robbie. “Pin these onto the center of each doorway, please.”

“Every doorway? Why?”

“I like mistletoe. It looks really nice.”

“Of course you like it, it’s a plant. A toxic plant.” Robbie glares down at the bowl. “Surely this is too much though. Do you want everyone in town to kiss everyone else in town? You’re going to create chaos with this.”

“Don’t exaggerate. Most people at the party will stay within the lobby anyways, so it’s only the mistletoe at the main entrance that will be used up. You’ll have to use the one with the most berries for that, the smaller bunches can go up at the other doorways.”

Robbie roots around to find the largest bunch of mistletoe. “Why does it even matter how many berries it has?”

“After each kiss the couple plucks one of the berries from the plant. Once all the berries have been taken it can no longer command kisses.”

Robbie snorts at the phrasing. “Fine. I’ll put the one with the most berries up at the main entrance.”

“Thank you Robbie! I’m going to put the ladder and these empty ornament boxes back into storage so that no one trips over them tomorrow. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Robbie nods and flits from doorway to doorway, tacking up each bough in the center and, still thinking that there was far too much than necessary, strips a couple of berries from each of the smaller bunches and discreetly throws them in the trash. He doesn’t do the same with the largest branch, since he figures people will know what’s coming and have the decency to step around it instead of under it as they enter into the building.

He’s done by the time Sportacus comes back from the storage closet in the basement and upon glancing at the clock notices that it’s close enough to eight that the elf will probably be leaving himself any minutes now, so he heads over to the coat-rack and starts the process of bundling himself up against the cold.

“Thank you for your help Robbie.”

“Well, I’m sure everything else will go smoothly tomorrow since you won’t be needing the ladder for anything but the star. The less trouble those kids get into the less noise they’ll make.”

Sportacus laughs. “That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”

Robbie opens the door and braces himself against the cold. He glances to his side as Sportacus steps beside him, no winter-appropriate gear on his person except for a scarf that’s tied loosely around his neck.

“How do you even survive in the winter? You don’t have any extra fat on you to help conserve body heat and you don’t wear nearly enough layers.”

“The cold doesn’t really bother me. Winters here are nothing compared to what they are up north.”

“Well, remind me to never go north.”

He turns away from Sportacus and steps out onto the stoop, but pauses when Sportacus calls his name.

“What?” He turns.

Sportacus coughs lightly, then he pointedly glances upward.

Robbie follows his gaze, something unnameable curling in his stomach. 

“It’s bad luck to refuse a kiss,” Sportacus tells him, and Robbie can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

He feels… He doesn’t know how he feels, and that’s the main problem. He doesn’t know what to do in this situation, and isn’t entirely sure what Sportacus actually expects of him. Is he going to laugh in another moment, and make a comment about the look on Robbie’s face? Or does he really want to…

Robbie feels unsettled and warm all at once, and chooses to ignore the situation by spinning on his heel and walking away, picking up the pace when Sportacus calls after him. Of course there’s no way he can actually speed walk fast enough to get away, but it’s the thought that counts.

Sportacus takes all of five seconds to catch up with him, and he cautiously lays a hand on Robbie’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry Robbie. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” He was just overwhelmed by something he couldn’t put his finger on. He hated not knowing things. “I just don’t believe in that sort of superstition.”

Sportacus smiles up at him and that strange feeling resounds through Robbie all over again. 

“Will you come tomorrow afternoon for the finishing touches? I’d like you to be there, even if it’s just to watch the star being put up.” 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, which essentially translates to a ‘yes’ because if he really didn’t want to he’d say ‘no’ outright.

“That’s all I ask. Goodnight Robbie.”

“Goodnight, Sportacus.”

They part ways, and Robbie throws a quick glance over his shoulder to watch Sportacus ascend on his ladder.

And if he happens to slip a lot on his trek home he resolutely doesn’t even let himself think about the possibility of it being bad luck incurred upon him via toxic plant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sportacus tried (oh my God, did he try)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3 in the morning, but of the many things I personally feel I have in common with Robbie my terrible sleeping schedule is one of them.  
> Also I tacked another chapter onto this because no way am I finishing everything in 4.

The following day he barely makes it to Town Hall on time to watch the Mayor put up the star, all of the children and a few of their parents watching on as the finishing touch is added to the tree. All that matters is he made it, though, and when Sportacus catches sight of him through the sparse crowd from where he’s bracing the ladder he manages a quick nod in greeting.

Once the Mayor is safely back down on solid ground he announces that Town Hall is officially ready for the Christmas Eve celebration, and everyone in the room claps politely, some with more fervour than others. 

Afterwards Sportacus starts walking toward where Robbie’s standing at the back of the room, but he’s waylaid by a flock of children and several adults who seem to be eager to speak with him about how wonderful the lobby looks this year. Robbie thinks that Sportacus mentions that he’d had help, because several disbelieving looks are sent his way, and he crosses his arms with a huff and trains his eyes on the ceiling, foot tapping petulantly, not even entirely sure why he was waiting. It’s not like he had anything to talk to Sportacus about.

One by one the adults trail away, and Robbie watches with vague interest as they pass under the mistletoe he’d hung at the main door. Married couples easily fall into the tradition, sharing a quick kiss before one of them reaches up to pluck a berry from the bough. Younger individuals, or those who had come alone, walk around it rather than underneath it.

When the kids leave they don’t really notice it until a pair of them have already fallen into the trap, and in the face of much goading and giggling Fancy Boy manages a put upon sigh before leaning down so that Cookie Boy can press a quick peck to his cheek.

All the other kids laugh as they stick to the sides of the door to exit, and then finally everyone but he and Sportacus are gone.

“They all really like what we did with the place. Thanks again for helping me with it last night,” Sportacus says as he moves to stand beside Robbie, surveying the whole of the room with a satisfied smile. 

“You and I both know that I hardly did anything.”

“That’s not true. It would have taken me a lot longer if I had to go up and down the ladder every time I needed to grab something.”

“Well.” Robbie uncrosses his arms to shove his hands into his pockets, looking away. “I suppose that isn’t a lie.”

“Of course it’s not! I would never lie.”

“That’s definitely true.” He manages a grin. 

Sportacus laughs and playfully nudges against him. “Since you say so then you must believe me that you were a great help yesterday, and I enjoyed working with you.”

That warm feeling is back. Robbie wonders if he should be worried about how often it seems to be occurring, and at the obvious root cause of it.

“Since you’re so grateful, I have a question I’d like to ask you.”

Sportacus turns to look at him fully and from the corner of his eye Robbie can see there’s a curious weight in his gaze. “Of course, ask away.”

“What do you want from me for Christmas? Because the last time I thought I’d do something you might like it turned out I almost swallowed something toxic and I’m not planning on trying anything new for at least three weeks because of it.”

Sportacus goes still. “Robbie, are you saying that you almost ate mistletoe yesterday because you thought it would make me happy?”

There’s obvious amusement in Sportacus’s voice, and Robbie’s shoulders slowly start moving up towards his ears as he slumps against the wall. “Not my wisest decision ever, I will grant you that.”

“I’m not making fun of you Robbie,” Sportacus’s tone gentles, “I’m just surprised, is all. Last night I was a little too panicked to really bother asking why you’d decided to eat it in the first place.”

“Well, now you know. So what do you want for Christmas?”

“Honestly?” Sportacus seems to shift a little closer, so that their sides brush. “All I’d really like for Christmas is to spend some more time with you. Last year, and the Christmas before that, you weren’t around for very long.”

“Well, I was still generally trying to actively run you out of town those years.”

Sportacus lets out a soft chuckle. “And I’m very happy that you no longer want to kick me out of Lazy Town forever. Really though, Robbie, don’t worry about giving me something. Just be here with me tomorrow?”

Robbie takes a moment to glance down at him and is caught off-guard by the sincerity on Sportacus’s face.

“That seems too easy.”

“It’s all I need.” Sportacus nudges against him again. “Please?”

“Well, if that’s what you really want. But you can’t change your mind later! If I hear you complaining about how I didn’t give you anything—“

“I promise I wouldn’t do that, Robbie.”

“Well, then you have a deal.” Robbie pushes off from the wall and holds his hand out for Sportacus to take, which he does while trying not to appear too visibly amused. They shake on it. “What time does this party thing start at?”

“Six.”

“Right. I’ll see you then.”

“You’re not leaving for home already are you?” Sportacus pushes away from the wall as well, quickly shifting to stand in front of Robbie. “You only just got here ten minutes ago.”

“To watch the star go on the tree. The star is now on the tree.”

“Yes it is.” Sportacus’s smile momentarily gains a wry twist to it. It doesn’t suit him. “The kids and I are going to go tobogganing later, but not for another hour or so, and I was wondering, if you’re not busy of course, if you would like to spend some time with me?” He looks uncharacteristically bashful. Robbie’s heart lurches at the sight.

“I’d love to,” he says before he can process the wording. And, just like that, alarms begin blaring in his head.

Love. Love. Love.

Sportacus smiles widely and Robbie tries to backtrack. “I mean, yes, sure, I would like to spend time with you. What—ah, what did you have in mind?”

Love. Love. Love.

If Sportacus is concerned by the way Robbie has begun to babble he makes no mention of it, instead just continuing to smile warmly at Robbie as he answers.

“Chef Pablo’s restaurant has a very nice hot apple cider on its seasonal menu this year, would you like to have some with me?”

Under ordinary circumstances Robbie may have taken a minute to dramatically marvel at Sportacus’s use of an actual name for fruit. At the moment all he can do is nod mutely.

“Great, let’s go!” Sportacus is off like a shot, rushing through the doorway excitedly. Robbie follows at a more sedate pace, staring up at the mistletoe he’d hung last night and wondering what he’d done to deserve this; having all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place after their moment under the plant had already passed.

Oh. Right. He was a (former) villain.

Who was now, apparently, in love with a hero.

The emotion rises up inside of him, making him feel effervescent and light. He relishes the sensation, now that he can finally put a name to it.

Love. Love. Love.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve Eve to you all. :)  
> As long as everything goes as planned I should be able to get the final chapter up sometime tomorrow.

Sitting down with Sportacus is already a whole new experience, made even more exceptional by the comprehension that Robbie has so recently gained regarding himself and his own feelings.

There is a certain peace in knowing why he’s been feeling this way, but knowledge doesn’t make the warm sensation stop, or make his heart-rate slow back down to a normal pace. If anything it’s all heightened to a new peak, and as Robbie sips at his cider and attempts to make small talk he can’t help but wonder if he’s being obvious, if the way he feels is translating clearly through his body language and speech and his sudden aversion to all eye contact because it makes his cheeks feel hot.

Sportacus carries on as he usually does, subtly doing calf-raises under the small table they’re seated at in what Robbie assumes is a need to always be moving.

They talk mostly about tomorrow’s party; what activities and games there will be, the heaps of treats prepared by the townsfolk, the possibility of singing a carol or two. At one point Sportacus mentions how happy he is that Robbie had accepted his invitation, and Robbie has to keep himself from smiling too widely, too conspicuously. 

Time passes quickly and too soon after they’ve finished their drinks Sportacus has to meet the kids at the range of hills just outside of town.

“I can’t believe you’re going tobogganing and the only season-appropriate thing you’re wearing is that scarf.” Robbie says as they stand, and his fingers itch to reach out and touch the knitted fabric, just so he can at least tie it around Sportacus’s neck properly. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets instead, pulling out his own gloves and pressing them to Sportacus’s chest. “Wear these, at least.”

Sportacus slowly reaches up to take the proffered gloves, their fingers brushing at the action, and Robbie is so…

He’s in so much trouble.

“Won’t your hands be cold without them? You’re more sensitive to this weather than I am.”

“I at least have decent pockets in a proper winter jacket to keep my hands warm while I spend all of five minutes outside. My fingers can survive, I am far more worried about yours.”

Sportacus’s smile isn’t wide or showy, but it is something. Something that Robbie’s never really cared to notice before. It’s soft and pleasant, more understated than his usual wide smiles but somehow more intense. Perhaps it’s the gleam in his eyes that makes it that way. Robbie’s never seen him look like that at anyone, let alone him, before.

Or maybe he had, but he hadn’t been fixated enough on the subtleties of Sportacus’s expressions to notice any differences. 

The elf slides the gloves onto his hands. They’re a little long in the fingers, a little tight at the wrists, but at least it’s one extra layer to keep his hands from freezing. He curls his fingers in them, as if judging the fit.

“Thank you Robbie. I’ll return them to you tomorrow.”

“Keep them. I’ve got enough gloves hanging around to replace them, I’m sure. Just promise me that you’ll wear them.”

Sportacus’s eyes are intense, charged with something that Robbie can’t quite look directly at. “I promise.”

“Well. Good, that’s—that’s good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sportadweeb,” he throws the misnomer into the air between them, hoping it will help him feel a little more calm.

It doesn’t really work.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Robbie,” Sportacus says, voice heavy with promise. “Have a good evening.”

“Same to you. Try not to have too much fun.”

“There’s no such thing,” Sportacus chimes back, one of his usual smiles painting itself across his lips. “Maybe someday I’ll be able to show you that.”

“Only time will tell,” Robbie murmurs before making a final goodbye.

His eyes are pinned to the ground his entire trek home as he tries to sort out how this happened, and when it had started. He can’t seem to think of a set beginning to his feelings, only a gradual fondness increasing over time until it had become more.

He’s never been in love before, and he’s not entirely sure what he ought to do about it.

He thinks about the married couples he’d seen today, at ease beside each other and comfortable in their small acts of intimacy. He can’t bring himself to try and imagine himself and Sportacus in similar roles, certain that such a thing would only make him flush hotly and never be able to look Sportacus in the eyes ever again. The friendship that they had somehow fallen into is something very dear to Robbie, though he would be reluctant to say so to anyone’s face since he’s too used to keeping people at an arm’s length, and he doesn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize it. 

He can still bask in the way being around Sportacus makes his mood lift, but he doesn’t really need anything more than that. He’s not greedy enough to selfishly want everything that Sportacus can give him, not when it’s a miracle in and of itself that they’ve managed to become close despite Robbie’s many previous efforts to drive Sportacus away.

He’ll treasure his feelings, but he won’t act on them. It’s for the best.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

He sleeps fitfully that night and spends the majority of the following afternoon in his pyjamas, lounging on his orange recliner and staring up at the ceiling.

He’d dug out a few books that morning, some romantic classics that he was suddenly a lot more interested in than he had ever been before. None of them had been able to grab his attention so much that he read them in-depth, instead choosing to skim through the pages quickly, trusting himself to get the gist of it, hoping to find some sort of clue within the pages about how people usually acted in these unforeseen situations. Every book he’d gone through seemed to highlight miscommunication, or lack of communication, as the main culprit for keeping lovers apart. It makes him second-guess himself.

He hates not knowing what to do. Hates that his social ineptitude makes new situations so difficult for him to navigate through. He ponders whether or not he should talk to anyone about this before quickly discarding the idea. He’s not particularly close with any of the adults in Lazy Town except for Sportacus, and he can’t imagine that the children would be of much help to him or be able to keep it a secret from their hero for even a short amount of time. 

He takes an afternoon nap in an attempt to catch up on the sleep he’d lost last night, and several hours later he finds himself pacing in front of his disguise chutes, looking over various outfits that he could wear to the party.

“Too cold,” he states at a pair of black shorts and a burgundy polo shirt. 

“Too old,” he scrunches his nose up in distaste as he spies the bellbottoms, wondering why he even still owned those.

“Too gold,” he passes by an absolutely gaudy dress that looks more suited for a glamorous New Year’s Eve party than a small-town Christmas Eve get together.

“Ah,” he starts as he approaches the final chute, expression already softening at the outfit encased within, “perfect!”

He slams a hand down on his keyboard and kicks into a twist, the red knitted sweater and black dress pants encompassing him quickly.

The outfit had also come with a moustache and a pair of slim-framed glasses, but he peels those off and carelessly tosses them on top of the keyboard without a second thought. He’s not meant to be disguised tonight, he’d just like to wear something a little nicer than his usual outfit. 

He wraps himself up in his jacket and scarf, manages to find another pair of mittens, and takes a fortifying breath before he ascends out the hatch of his lair and steps into the frigid night air.

All the Christmas lights have been turned on to full power and Lazy Town gleams like a jewel amongst the starkly white landscape surrounding it. He takes a brief moment to wonder what it must look like from a bird’s-eye-view before he trudges though the snow banks on his way into town.

He slips into Town Hall, only a few minutes late, sidestepping the mistletoe knowingly before divesting himself of his outerwear. He slips past the crowd, nodding in a strained polite greeting whenever one of the children’s parents lock eyes with him, and hastily helps himself to a glass of eggnog, more to have something to do with his hands than a desire to drink it. 

Relief sweeps though him when Sportacus steps beside him, looking genuinely happy to have Robbie there.

“Glad you could make it,” he says. Their sides brush again, and Robbie starts to wonder if this sort of thing has been happening for a while and he’s only just becoming aware of the closeness now.

“Glad to be here,” he answers.

If he happens to shift a bit closer to Sportacus the elf doesn’t say anything about it.

“So, what exactly am I supposed to do now that I’m here? It looks like there’s a lot of mingling going on.” He sips at his eggnog fretfully. “I’m not good at mingling.” 

“Just stay with me, then. I’ll act as a buffer for you.”

Well, Robbie’s not going to say no to that.

Most of the people who approach Sportacus, and consequently Robbie, throughout the first half-hour of the party are the kids anyways, and Robbie can manage conversations with them easily enough. Once the activities start up: a gingerbread man decorating competition, followed by Christmas movie trivia and a somewhat cringe-inducing few rounds of name-that-Christmas-carol, the kids disappear to take part and a few of the adults take an opportunity to approach them.

It’s overwhelming, conversing to people that he’s not used to interacting with, even if Sportacus is the one to do most of the speaking. He is able to stand more of it than he ever could have if he were by himself, but about an hour into the party he excuses himself briefly just so that he can spend a few minutes alone on the stairs that lead down to the basement storage closet.

When he returns Sportacus has been pulled into some sort of charade-like game with the children, and he easily holds the interest of the entire room. Robbie helps himself to a plate of desserts and leans up against the wall, content to watch the proceedings from his perch away from the others.

At one point Sportacus catches his eye and he winks. Robbie’s heart thumps rabbit-quick in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, my favourite part about writing this chapter was finally getting an opportunity to have Robbie go through his disguises with the "too this, too that" thing he does, I have been wanting to do that for... (casually looks at how long I've been writing Lazytown fanfic) Less than a month. But it feels like a lot longer!  
> My gosh, I've been productive this December.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all of your comments and kudos! I love you guys so much, omg, knowing how much you're enjoying this brings such a huge smile to my face.

The time drags ever closer to eight, which Robbie had assumed would signal the end of the party considering the favoured bedtime of every child in town. It leaves him surprised to notice that no one seems eager or ready to go back to their own homes for the night as they approach the two-hour mark, and also just makes him hyper-aware of how uncomfortable he is becoming.

He had expected two hours of socialization, had mentally prepared himself for that amount. If he stays any longer than that he knows regret at coming will start curling in his stomach, and the desire to leave will itch under his skin and make him agitated. He will end up leaving, he can’t force himself to stay, there’s just an option between leaving while he can still manage enough politeness to say goodbye to the handful of people he knows well enough to talk to, or leaving without saying goodbye to anyone after he’s held out and suffered for as long as he can last.

Maybe he should have asked Sportacus when the party would end, maybe then guilt wouldn’t be eating him up at the idea that he’d been the last to get here and would be the first to leave. Still, there’s not much he can do about it. Not even his newfound feelings are going to do anything about the unease that’s started to build up inside of him at being around so many people, even if he was just standing by himself and not interacting.

The children are all grouped together, so it’s easy enough to bid them a farewell. They seem surprised that he’d leave the party so early, and even go so far as to mention that Sportacus had said that as long as you didn’t make a habit of staying up late it was okay to do it once in a while.

Robbie claims tiredness as his motivating factor, wishes them a merry Christmas, and turns to find Sportacus, who’s been pulled into a group of teenagers and young adults that ignore Robbie’s existence just as much as he ignores theirs.

As if Sportacus can feel his eyes on him his gaze flits in his direction. Robbie’s face must look as drawn out as he feels, because that’s definitely a worried crease forming between Sportacus’s brows. He appears to make some sort of excuse to leave his current company and quickly darts over to Robbie.

“I think I’d better go home. I’ve had about as much merry making as I can handle.”

“I’m sorry, I should have stayed with you—“

“This would have happened whether you were with me or not,” Robbie interrupts, his voice sounds too harsh to his own ears and he winces at it, dialling down his tone to something calmer. “I’m not good with crowds for long periods of time. It doesn’t matter if there’s someone I like with me, or if I’m alone and not talking to anyone. It just gets to be too much for me after a while.”

Sportacus nods. The worried look in his eyes doesn’t dissipate.

“Can I at least walk you home?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. I want to be sure that you get there safely, otherwise I’d worry all night.”

Robbie’s pulse flutters. “That seems like an exaggeration.”

“It’s not. It’s because I care about you, Robbie.”

Sportacus’s face is just too sincere as he says that, Robbie can’t keep up eye contact any more. His face is burning and everything is too loud and he needs to get out of here.

“Walk with me, then, if that’s what you want.”

Together they go to the main doors and Robbie wraps himself back up in his coat, gloves, and scarf. Sportacus ties his own scarf around his neck, and Robbie is able to take a second to be happy that he’s also tugging on the gloves that Robbie had given him.

He casts a glance up at the doorway, and is surprised to see that all the berries are gone from the mistletoe now. Sportacus follows his gaze.

“Some of the teenaged couples have been purposefully walking under there all night,” he offers as an explanation. Robbie nods mutely and shoves the door open, walking out onto the stoop and tucking his nose deeper into his scarf. 

It’s much better outside the building, all the noise from inside muted, no glaring lights overtaking Robbie’s senses. He takes a deep breath of freezing air, letting the chill anchor him as he begins to take slow steps away from Town Hall, Sportacus walking alongside him in silence. 

They make it past the edge of town before Robbie can manage to vocalize even one of the multitude of thoughts that have been running through his head.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for the entire thing.”

“It’s okay that you need to leave early. Your well-being is more important to me than you staying for another two hours and feeling miserable because of it.” Sportacus gazes up at him earnestly. “You do realize that, right?”

“… Yes?”

He feels something brush against the back of his hand, and goes still when fingers intertwine with his own. Sportacus is looking up at him and holding his hand and Robbie isn’t sure if this is something a lot of other adult friends do, or if it’s just something Sportacus does, or if it’s something entirely different.

He takes in a shaky breath. 

Miscommunication, or lack of communication, is the bane of every relationship, romantic or platonic.

“I don’t understand.”

Sportacus’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Don’t understand what?”

“This.” Robbie swings their hands between them. “And—and you saying stuff like you care about me. I haven’t had many friends and I’m not good with social cues, so sometimes when you say things, do things, I’m not sure if you mean it as a joke or not and I don’t know how to respond to it.”

Sportacus takes a moment to fully consider Robbie’s words. He doesn’t let go of Robbie’s hand.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“I figured it would be better for you to know. I don’t want to assume you mean one thing when you actually mean another, that would be—“ disastrous “—bad.” 

“If you ever need me to clarify something I don’t mind. When I say that I care about you, that I like you, it’s because I genuinely do. We’ve already established that I do not lie, right?” Sportacus offers him a slight smile, and the reminder of their conversation yesterday amuses him enough that Robbie manages to quirk his lips a little in return. “When I do things like this,” Sportacus briefly firms his hold on Robbie’s hand, “or stand close to you, or touch you, it is because I like being close to you. I—“ His cheeks start turning a curious shade of pink, as if the cold has finally started to take an effect on him. “I really like being close with you.”

“Okay.”

“And that’s… Not quite it. I love you as a friend very dearly, Robbie.”

Robbie’s face just about catches fire at the wording. Sportacus, stunningly, doesn’t seem entirely composed himself.

“There’s also more to it, though. I understand that you may not feel the same way, and please do not ever think that I would push you into something you do not want, but for the sake of clarity I think you should know that I feel more than friendship towards you as well. If knowing that makes you uncomfortable with stuff like this,” he looks down at their entwined fingers briefly, “just tell me and I can stop.”

Robbie breathes in sharply through his teeth one, two, three times, mind whirling and lips wordlessly moving as he struggles to say something. Sportacus starts to withdraw his hand and Robbie chases after it, snatching his fingers and holding them perhaps too tightly, but suddenly very unwilling to let go.

“You don’t have to stop,” he finally manages to say. “I like it. I like you. I lo—“ The word catches in his throat, leaving him breathless for a moment. “Love you,” he finishes, with what feels like the last of the air in his lungs.

Sportacus’s eyes gleam brightly and he takes a small step forward so that he can wrap his free hand around Robbie’s waist. Robbie pulls him a little closer, lets the fingers of their connected hands intertwine again.

“I had hoped,” Sportacus whispers, “that someday you might feel for me as I feel for you. I didn’t want to push though, didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” He briefly leans his forehead against Robbie’s shoulder and curls his hand into the material of Robbie’s jacket. Then he takes a small step back.

His eyes are glassy, it looks like he might actually start shedding tears, and Robbie experiences a fleeting moment of panic before a smile breaks out across Sportacus’s face. Warm and wonderful.

“I love you Robbie.”

Robbie ducks his nose into his scarf and gazes at their connected hands again, affection spreading throughout him and leaving him feeling light and optimistic, almost like he could do anything he set his mind to right now. This is brand new territory for him and he is a little wary at all the unknown possibilities that lay before him, but mostly he’s happy. It’s not as if he’s facing this alone, after all.

A cold wind sweeps past them, prompting them to continue the short distance to the billboard, holding hands and smiling the entire way. When they reach the hatch to Robbie’s underground home Sportacus looks down at their hands like he’s reluctant to let go.

“I have a gift for you,” he starts slowly, “I didn’t think to bring it with me tonight. Would it be alright if I visited you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Robbie doesn’t bother trying to downplay his happiness, or worry about whether his smile is too obvious. “I’d love to see you tomorrow.”

He watches in fascination as a rosy hue overtakes Sportacus’s cheeks again. Perhaps he is not the only one of the pair of them that is a little out of their depth at the moment.

It’s a heady sensation, to think that he can effect Sportacus as much as Sportacus effects him. It overflows inside of him, filling up empty spaces that he hadn’t known he had, and on an impulse he leans down to press his lips to a pink cheek.

“For the other night,” he says after he pulls back to find Sportacus gazing up in something like wonder, a hand pressed lightly to the side of his face. “I mean, I don’t believe in superstitions, but with the way you keep running around to save people you can’t afford bad luck brought on by mistletoe, of all things.”

“How thoughtful,” Sportacus remarks with a fond chuckle. He cradles Robbie’s hand in both of his own and pulls it up so that he can press his smile against the outline of Robbie’s knuckles. 

Robbie thinks he could bask in this feeling forever.

Loved. Loved. Loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These dorks, they love each other so much, I love them so much.  
> Hope you enjoyed! And I hope you guys have a great holiday season! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I made a [Lazytown sideblog](https://neyieagetslazy.tumblr.com/) because I am weak, lol


End file.
